Slow Burn Stories Novels & Stories

I light the fuel with my other hand. The flames catch fast and climb through the hardware, licking around the laptop’s edges, finding the drive, consuming the server. The plastic casing warps and bubbles. Internal components glow orange, slowly deforming in the flames. The laptop screen cracks from the intense heat, the glass falling inward. Above it all, the smoke climbing into the Alaskan sky carries sixty-three names, ten years of lies, and eight years of bruises into the dark where nobody will ever retrieve them. We watch it burn. Her hand in mine. The fire reflecting in her eyes.

The sun is very hot out here so I pick up some lotion and rub it on my body so as not to get burnt and look like a cooked lobster in the end! I don't have emails so I just play a game for a while and when I get bored of that i put my tablet away and pick up my romance novel i was reading. Half way through the book though I drift away into a peaceful slumber. After spending an hour or so in the water Conor comes back and puts his cold hands on my body making me heal up. "What the hell Conor??" I yell at him and he only smirks smugly with an innocent face!.....devil!

thermal acceleration" —none of which made much sense to me. But as I flipped further into the journal, the entries became more personal. More frantic. {The project is spiraling out of control. We thought we could contain it, but the models were wrong. The simulations were wrong. We’re not prepared for what’s coming.} {The heat is spreading faster than we anticipated. The atmosphere is destabilizing. There’s no stopping it now. God help us all.} My heart began to race as I read the final few entries, the words scrawled hastily, as if the person writing them had been in a panic. {The Burning is inevitable. We’ve failed. There’s nothing left but survival.}

A small flame grew, feeding on the dry grass. At first, it was more smoke than flame, but it grew quickly. Soon a trickle of flame spread into the deeper grass, finding a feast of dry tinder. It only took moments for the flames to spread along the roadside, incinerating everything they touched. The stars came out to watch the pretty flames dance along the side of the road, their silent light pale compared to the orange and red glow. ***

“Lower yourself slowly, baby. Let me watch that tight pussy stretch around your stepbrother’s big dick.” I gripped the base of his cock with one hand—it was so thick my fingers barely met—and lined him up with my soaked entrance. The head nudged my puffy lips open. I sank down inch by inch, gasping loudly as he stretched me open. “Oh my god… he’s so fucking big,” I moaned. The burn was intense and perfect, my walls fluttering and gripping every ridge and vein as I took him deeper than I thought possible. When my ass finally rested against his hips, I felt impossibly full, his cock buried to the hilt inside me.

They fucked slow and deep in front of the fire, kissing passionately while he ground against her clit. Then he took her against the window, her breasts pressed against the cold glass as he fucked her from behind, the snowstorm swirling outside while he claimed her. By the time the fire had burned low, Evelyn was a wrecked, cum-soaked mess. Her body was covered in his marks, and her pussy was leaking his cum. Jonathan pulled her into his arms on the couch, kissing her deeply. “We’re snowed in for at least two more days,” he murmured against her lips. “And I’m nowhere near finished with you.”

private treatment? *A shuddering moan slips past my lips as you pull me close, your large hand spanning my hip possessively. The heat of your body seeps into me, igniting a fire low in my belly. Your filthy words send liquid heat rushing south, dampening my panties.* *I should push you away, put an end to this madness. But God help me, I'm too far gone, craving your touch like a woman starved.* Yes... *I breathe, voice trembling with anticipation and barely restrained lust.* I'll give you whatever you need, Mr. Vincenzo. Anything to ease your pain.

Outside the hills were dark and the burn scar was invisible and somewhere in the northwest sector the fuel gap remained, waiting for October, and she lay in the warm room and felt entirely certain about the work ahead. THE END

thirty-eight, restless, and deliciously reckless. Her friends had dragged her out with one mission in mind…to remind her what it felt like to be alive. Lila, the fiery divorcee with a laugh like wildfire, Margot, the bestselling novelist who lived for drama, and quiet Jade, the sharp-eyed reporter, had refused to take no for an answer. “Truth or dare, Soph,” Lila challenged, her eyes glittering with mischief as she swirled the last of her drink. “And don’t you dare give me any of that polite, senator-wife bullshit tonight.”